Freedom from within

Written April 8, 2015

Wary, peering from behind shadows. The fur chewed off paws. Pacing, antsy, a deep growl echoing. There is a part of me, somewhere in my upper chest locked behind ribbed bars, which feels caged. My body tells me so: pain in the heart area sends me to ER (inflammation, Advil heals for a time); pneumonia keeps me home. Something is pushing, aching, something infected is trying to get out, something is trying not to drown.

How does one do marriage, a family, and remain intact? What does our "self" look like anyway, that we try so hard to protect its integrity? Perhaps we shouldn't remain "who we are", throwing everything up in the air to see how it falls into a new shape. Change is the only constant after all, it's just destabilizing. Parenting changes all of us, and it has brought to light wonderful and beastly parts of myself that I am slowly integrating. My wish upon seeing the first night star, ever since I was a teen, involves freedom and possibility. Since I chose a domestic life, I have to believe I can find those within it. Freedom is a pretty word… but does it mean escape to me? The ability to do whatever whenever however? There is no life in community without compromise, without construction on the roads, without restraint. I don’t want to be alone somewhere, nor to drop everything and travel. I don’t want a different spouse or children (or cats, as one purrs on my lap). I love our home.  

It’s up to me how I live this. I can play the victim, poor hapless, overburdened me. I can whine and wail, shaking the cage of the limitations I chose. To be fair, no one really knows how parenting is going to feel before it happens, before nothing is the same again. Or, I can chose to loosen up, calm down, creaking open those rusty gates, letting some lightness into those dark places. It’s about vulnerability, ultimately. Really feeling love comes with so much risk. Perhaps I cage myself FROM domestic life, never fully participating out of fear. Loss of control, the unknown, perceived loss of self. I think the only healthy way out is through courage to be fully in the moment. And faith in myself and my family. In my mind’s eye I see my naked self from the back, walking out through my ribs into an explosion of light.

It’s not freedom from my beloved wee boys or sweet gal I seek. I see that I am my own oppressor by telling myself things ought to be a certain, perfect way, or I that I ought to feel more, be more. What I want now, in fact, is release from my own fears and to live in joy. 

E